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and now
oct 31 8:07 AM nearly peace, by 4 minutes. can't do this by cartoons. dig out yesterdays paper, poots. waking up won't be slowly today. oct 30 7:42 AM giving is a priority. for those who count the pennies to shut the lights, maybe not. but some mEpwords stick. it's not a halloweeny forecast and poots needs to move after broken sleep oct 29 8:24 PM in a box in the mep on the page through the lens facebook hell faces me now and then again, and again, and again costumed poots and toots parade and there is nothing else to say that fills me up oct 28 9:55PM you wake up and reality paints all over u years go by all of a sudden you missed beauty the hungarians disagree in the kitchen plastic containers missing the woman left and he's opening it's rare and it makes him more hungarian but i don't know why gentle men surround me now oct 27 8:15AM ghostly ! aghastly ! two thousand dollars dissappears we need updating on how much money that is in 1965 it was someone's annual income in 1975 it paid the rent for a year in 1985 it bought a car, downpayment on a house in 1995 a trip to europe 2005, daycare for 2 months and in 2010, it's negative two thousand, even before i look for a new camera, laptop, boots, and a trip to San Remo. not early but i'm alone. grey swimming day, woke itchy at 5am. i'm itchy still. it's time for a good steak; a stretch; and to hang the paintings. the art world is far i fear. in every cell of me, but elusive still they're not my choices to make i've never made them and it wont' happen now and that's a fact to swallow scratch poots oct 26 733AM rising tides, let me speak, let them sleep. i'll find a new kind of beauty in the world in me and i'll spread it, as i've done before you'll see fighting to feel sexy daily is a job for most they parade and how many are caught in their net as they waft down the hall expensive or cheap plastic or faux you can't see their struggle but i do - - - - - - - - rotting gourds now omar is guilty java complete some clarity is returning, well good for me. oct 25 729AM dark morning on poots street java slowly wakes me, ringing ears distract me sleep slowly warm the cockles warm the pen chisel poots, into the digital cave last one standing pure and free oct 24 is
there
a
manuscript
in
the
mEp;
alone; cold; did i say alone. make white space black and white. java tepid tepidation warmer java and lots of heaters barely moments left for inside me worlds sleep worlds spin warmer would be nice. dig poots, dig. it's in there somewhere. italian magazines plumbing bills four empty walls. to make it interesting, we dragged ourselves four, to places no longer familiar hedonism on every face; music throbbing through faint hearts lives colliding momentarily looking for glue or whatever makes moments stick together the phone will soon ring the night soon wrapped up the day soon spent spun collided black. and white. how much java does a wake poot make stirring oct 22 notalotof words On a cold dark october friday in the mEp. turn a page, spill some words take your time how many things can words fix that can't be said perspective is all it's all about how big is the truth and who has the explanation not i. are they really gone, those two smiling faces... and what does it mean to be crazy? chiseling shoulders square let's pretend it is exactly what it is B5 TSX weathers storm during choppy week i slept all night morning came what's new and why did he know these lyrics It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now And I don't know how I can do without I just need you now
10... 21 ... 2010 evidence overwhelming scant sleep
october 19.... 2010 five days later i'm done. i will find beauty again somehow the java has no taste; the colonel is a pervert: am i i still have words but they won't work on your heart will they. alt-tab between the mep and the matrix (fb) it's ok. the tasteless java will percolate and you will attend said meeting you are prepared...and...not... ears ringing heart pumping october 17.... 2010 we survived the weekend. ok, i survived the weekend. here i am in my private corner with very little unprivate to say what do desparate people do; i wouldn't know til wednesday but at least i have a private corner. music runs right thru me; there's more space there now which tippytoeing mepwords will fill me up i need to find them or i'll crack open or throw up nothing how many more weeks will fill me up landscapes are broad; vast; empty for now i'm very rarely lonely and my heart's never before been broken... lives of faces flash before my eye's mind i've touched them all will anyone ever look at me that way... "no wonder he loves her; no wonder at all. the moment she sees him her thought is to please him before he has the chance to tell her he's chilly she'll put a log on the fire fulfilling his every desire ... no wonder he he likes it it's perfect thsi way who wouldn't want someone who fusses and flatters who makes you feel you're all that matters? who's only aim in life is to please you and makes you think she doesn't deserve you? no wonder he loves her what else could he do? if i were a man, i would to. -Alan and Marilyn Bergman, Yentl many piles of neat quarters to my left; a never-ending puzzle box; half-eaten food, and a hand reaching my chest i'm still seeing some beauty in some unusual things i cannot tell you what no date entered
all of a sudden it's dark, i'm cold, and i'm tired. we all know what's fear and joy at the same time not sleeping trembling; where are you simon i need u now the wrong lyrics ring true; the wrong thing happened; beauty, now shame; no fear without pain poots has drawn a blank a rare moment in the configuration of her life: and the empty space here beckons if only to reflect let the wild tumbling begin and when i land ... wake me up october 15.... 2010 well here's a day that ends differently. i'm glad it's ended.
october 15.... 2010 i'm up. the entire house sleeps; fish alike mEpwords abound java percolates poots is back. fireworks in all directions point at the same space inside, i'm twelve again wake up, little poots, look around, take stock it's been a while and miraculously, the littlest one is hungry on this day this day. was that sleep i had or merely altered states keep adding poots, keep adding and so, beauty is now mine to find. mine. this flatter stomach takes a breath and some focus comes shoulders down he called you little poots and you told him the story of the wallaby sip - both hands on the big mug today. momentarily, fear, and simultaneously joy how does one spell simultaneous those moments come back now those only created by trauma, and the only trauma i knew was dragging myself to california and back. it's the only inspiration i have now the smell of jet fuel at 5.30 am in el segundo in the dark i drove him to work what drove me to do that? but the drive along sepulveda; the long, long drive, wound with christmas, canyons, whole foods, and hermosa, ends here and now. it's not black and white, poots, but it's everyone looking a the same coin, isn't it all those sparks; all this joyful fear; is pointing somewhere you need to concentrate. you need to focus. you were professional once too, remember. you were. but yoga, nor alan, nor acbis, nor fish, is taking you back. need a new plan of attack and forty-five more minutes, rona the hamster stirs. how much
coffee lowers my shoulders
how much damage to pretend you're somewhere you want to be how much money to really be there... no love lost, if there's no love sparks move me sparks bring me here sparks play with me sparks make everything beautiful everything fun they bring whimsy to my black and white world sparks make my shoulders square, my hips round, and my hands together over a space that doesn't feel green at all but first, they send me soaring, bursting, outside myself where i have little control where everything is possible where everyone is possible where i only see beauty in all it's colors, in all it's tones, in my knees, and in your knees too. so of course i'm all over the place! and there's no where else i'd rather be six forty-seven
october 14.... 2010
it's everywhere i turned today surreal but there from louiseville to grandmont and to louise inside and out four hours of throbbing music; throbbing inside: throbbing out; running thru permutations, combinations, calculations someone, not knowing, has succeeded in more ways than one i can do the math i can add it up
wednesday, october 13.... 2010
writing with certain trepidation at the end of a long day. feeling magical all over miners freed, keys found, poots will sleep tonight. Would you mind if I pretended we were somewhere else, doing something we wanted to, 'Cause all this living makes me wanna do, is die because I can't live with you, and you don't even care. Would you mind if I pretended I was someone else, with courage in love and war. I use to think that's what I was, but now this lying hurts to much, and I don't know what for. I'm weak in the knees for you, but I'll stand if you want me to. My legs are strong and I'll move on, but hunny I'm weak, in the knees. Would you mind if I walked over and I kissed your face, infront of all your friends. Would you mind if I got drunk and said, I wanna take you home to bed, Oh would you change your mind? I'm weak in the knees for you, but I'll stand if you want me to. My legs are strong, and I'll move on, but hunny I'm weak, in the knees, for you serena ryder
wednesday, october 13.... 2010
work through arpeggios with kathrin; through nights of bad sleep with the mEp; and through daily life, a marriage, and anything else that might take some energy. it's mostly mind over matter everyone else does it, and more... but they have to, says cynthia. alas. and that was the comment that set me about here on sept.26 "you've always been peddling downhill" were her words at 45, i'm determined to change that. what's the fun in downhill? what's the reward, even worse. and, what's the accolades. nothing. it's a zip zip zippy morning for poots on this wednesday. down faster, java, words, spit spot, and back upstairs quickly to shave those armpits.
october 12.... 2010
music to
move me a sleep
to ruin me we know
what Selma thinks of happiness
october 10.... 2010
awake
alone at eight fifty-four pm, a copy
of 'Columbine' in hand,
so shake
your head out poots; shake it dry;
it's
time to go and give thanks for your new mattress
october 8.... 2010
bursting
with juxtaposition - it's a beautifully photogenic day as poots
makes her way
and
driving about ndg in the rain in october it's
only uniquely mine maybe too intense, for most of you what do
the new faces
in those pictures think of me;
it's an
odd place to find yourself but i need to discover it
there
are luxuries in life; many are mine;
and that
really is something i can't explain.
2:51PM
october 8 2010
october 7.... 2010
plastic
glasses, warming up, but very well rested, two days in a week. planning.
maybe
scheming.
tantric
yoga
and
places
i've
never
been
before
i can't say for sure. i know i would bring jillian with me
poots,
relax your shoulders; it's the best part, remember. remember
all the advice they all gave you
shoulders
square;
as
they
seem
to
be
all
of
a
sudden, voice sharp; head
held high, at least for this day.
because i think themEp is back
and
widely, deeply, a smile crosses my face and slighlty flabby body
too.....
september 26.... 2010 it was about how you can tell them things that only they would understand: that no
one else interprets in the same way:
september 19.... 2010 but it's
nice to be alone here in my quiet corner.
an
entire assortment of interesting things are transpiring washing
her hands
and so
vast expanses of mind are in front of me
-jann arden
so i
think life is coming back, that is the bottom line.
i can no
longer keep all my wild thoughts in my head,
maybe
no
one's watching (except you, simon) picked
apart;
everyone's
watching....
is it
like the old days;
and
james
now;
for
once; back where you were; and
mostly
but.
it's
still the same peace.
I had
a
dream
things like
singing and buying stocks have something in common; it’s the things
that connect all start-ups; do you
have to really want it or can you convince yourself that you really
want it in order to get what you think you want. I
want
to hit that note, but does my life depend on it? I still derive a lot
of pleasure out of my own singing, imperfect as it may be. And,
as
for the 200,000 dollars, I guess I really don’t want it badly enough.
jan 05 2010
the mEp |
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